Swords and Masks
by 42.Is.the.Answer
Summary: Rose is the daughter of five-time Olympic Fencing Champion, Janine Hathaway. She, too, as followed in her mother's footsteps in swordplay and is one of the best fencers in the country. Dimitri is a two-time Russian Olympic Fencing Champion coming to the United States to coach. What will happen when the two meet? Summary sucks, my first fanfic. R&R please! ON HIATUS
1. Yet Another Taste of Victory

**Chapter I**

_Beep._

"Halt!"

I stopped moving and looked at the referee expectantly. It was clearly my point; the other fencer had retreated and stuck their arm out while I was on the attack. They probably saw my smallish size and assumed that I wouldn't be able to hit them. I smirked inwardly. I had a bigger lunge than most people thought.

"Attack- counterattack. Attack is good. Touch right," the referee said, adding a point on my side.

"En garde, ready, fence!"

I looked back at my opponent. I was in the finals of the Division I Nationals and I did not want to lose to this girl. I was expected to win. The score was 14-5 in my favor and I only needed one touch to win.

I studied the other girl and saw my opening. Advancing forwards quickly, I feinted to the fourth position and then dodged her blade, but only barely, hitting her in the shoulder.

_Beep._

"Halt!"

I bit my lip. It was all up to the ref. He could make up some infraction and take away my touch. Or he could grant it to me and make my day. His choice.

"Attack is parried, riposte is no, remise," he called, indicating my point. "Touch right. Bout."

Although I disagreed with the fact that she had parried my blade, I was too happy to care. The euphoria of winning first swirled around me and I was numb with happiness when I took off my mask and shook hands with my opponent.

She was about to cry. "Good bout," she said weakly, giving me a tentative smile.

I beamed back. "Thank you. It was a pleasure fencing you."

"Thank you," she replied, shaking my hand and grasping it for a brief second before letting go."

I unhooked myself from the strip and ducked under the metal railing. I saw my coach, Alberta Petrov, beaming at me.

"Congratulations, Rose!" she exclaimed. "I told you that you were going to win. You had it in the bag."

She gave me a fist bump and I smiled. "Thank you, Alberta. Are my parents here?"

Her smile melted away. "No, sorry, Rose," she replied. "Your father is still in Istanbul; the meeting went longer than expected, and your mother was… busy." She handed me my water bottle.

I snorted. "Yeah, too busy with her job to come watch her daughter, eh? The only time she ever watched me fence at a tournament was five years ago when I won the Y12 Women's Foil North American Cup, and she only watched the final bout," I said, taking a giant gulp of water.

"Miss Hathaway- Mazur?"

I turned and saw my referee holding out the score sheet and a pencil. I took it from him and checked the scores before scribbling my signature onto it and handing it to him, shaking his hand.

"Good job, Miss Hathaway- Mazur," he smiled before taking it to the bout committee.

I turned back to Alberta before getting tackled.

"Congrats, Rosie!"

I rolled my eyes. My adopted brother, Christian Ozera had attacked me. He'd finished third in Division I Men's Foil. He got eliminated by my friend, Eddie Castile, who was also from St. Vladimir's Fencing Academy. "Thanks, Christian," I smiled. "Can you help me bring my stuff over to my bag?"

"Of course Rosie," he replied. I handed him three foils, two body cords, and my towel. He took it all into his arms and walked back with me to the St. Vladimir's banner, where all the St. Vlad's kids' bags were. He set my equipment down gently on top of my black bag and I began to strip off all of my sweaty fencing uniform. I grabbed my change of clothes and ran into the bathroom, changing quickly and running back out again.

I was now wearing a St. Vladimir's Fencing Academy t-shirt and a pair of Nike sweatpants. I was still wearing my fencing shoes when the announcement for the awards ceremony came on. I ran over to the medal area and was quickly given an index card to fill out with my name, club, age, hometown, and coach. I scribbled down the responses and handed it back to the director. Alberta ran over with my St. Vlad's jacket and I shrugged it on.

"Want me to record?" Christian asked me. I nodded. I wanted him to send the video to Lissa. Lissa, Mia, and Adrian weren't here. They were friends from school and Lissa's brother, Andre used to fence before he died in a car crash along with their parents two years ago. Lissa was my best friend, and she also happened to be dating my brother.

"Alright, folks. The Awards Ceremony for Division I Women's Foil is about to begin," the announcer said. He cleared his throat. "In eighth place, from Rhode Island Fencing Academy and Club, is Elena Trinity! Miss Trinity is sixteen and is from the town of Warren, Rhode Island. She is coached by James Olson. Congratulations, Miss Trinity!"

The girl who I had eliminated in the Round of Eight stepped forwards and received her medal and then, shaking the presenter's hand, stepped up onto the podium.

"In seventh place…"

The awards went on. I clapped when I was supposed to and waited for my turn.

"And last, but definitely not least, our gold medalist in the Division I Women's Foil National Championships from Saint Vladimir's Fencing Academy is Rosemarie Hathaway- Mazur! Miss Hathaway is seventeen years old and is from Missoula, Montana. She is coached by Alberta Petrov. Very excellent job, Miss Hathaway- Mazur!" he exclaimed.

I felt Christian pat my back as I stepped forwards and bowed down my head for him to put the medal on. It was heavy and pulled down on my neck and I stood up, shaking his hand.

I walked over to the podium and shook all of the finalists' hands before stepping up to the highest step. There was a flash as the pictures started and I grinned at the cameras. I, Rosemarie Hathaway- Mazur, was in first place.


	2. Return Home

**_AN: I forgot to say this last chapter, but this is my first fanfiction, so please R&R. Constructive criticism is appreciated and if you are ever confused please let me know. Also, if you are not a fencer, here are a couple terms:_**

**_Touch- A point_**

**_Parry- A block_**

**_Riposte- Hitting someone after you block their attack_**

**_Strip- Where you fence_**

**_Bout- A match._**

**~ o O o ~ **

**Disclaimer (I forgot to do this too, whoops!): I am not Richelle Meade, therefore I do not own Vampire Academy.**

**Chapter II**

_"Hello, this is your captain speaking. We have landed in Missoula, Montana. Thank you for flying United. It is our pleasure to serve you."_

I looked out the window, taking out one earbud. We were back in Montana, thank god. Virginia was nice, but it was nothing compared to home.

I unbuckled my seatbelt and got out of my seat. Alberta was already up and taking our carry-on luggage down. She tossed me my backpack and handed me my small suitcase once I stepped out and I proceeded to exit the plane.

I came out in the terminal and waited for Alberta, Christian, Mason, and Eddie. I saw them soon as they walked quickly out of the gate. I waved them over and they came over to meet me.

"Who's picking us up?" I asked her.

"Ivashkov," she replied.

I grinned. Adrian was coming. I missed him, despite him being drunk half the time I'm around him, the bastard. "Adrian, eh? I've missed the damn bastard."

"Of course you did, Rosie," Christian laughed. "You just want to get into his pants."

"Shut up, Firecrotch," I shot back, glaring.

"Yeah," Eddie wheezed out, "He just wants to get into yours."

I hit him hard on the back of the head.

"Ow," he said, rubbing the spot where I hit it. "That hurt!"

"It's called arm muscle," I deadpanned. "You get it from working out."

We were at baggage drop now and I ran over to the screen. "Flight 371 from Richmond, Virginia is at Baggage Drop D," I told Mason, who went over to get our larger suitcases. I went over to Oversized Luggage and got the four giant fencing bags. I rolled them over and counted the luggage quickly. "That's it, right?" I asked.

"Yeah, that's all," Eddie replied quickly.

"Good. We've got a drunken bastard to meet," I said dryly, taking my two suitcases, fencing bag, and backpack.

We exited the airport and found Adrian's car. He had a lot of money and wasn't afraid to flaunt it, which is why we found a red Mercedes-Benz waiting for us, the license plate reading "AIVSHKV." I rolled my eyes. My family had plenty of money too, but you didn't see me driving a Mercedes. No, I got a used Toyota Sienna whose license plate read "7JV28R1."

The window rolled down and I laughed when I saw Adrian. He was wearing a pair of large sunglasses and a silky scarf along with a black leather jacket, his hair tousled in that "just had sex" way.

"Ah, if it isn't the four all-stars," he drawled, lowering his shades. I saw his bright emerald green eyes as they flicked over to me. "Your brother sent Mia, Lissa, and I the videos. Congratulations. First place! I'm proud of you, Little Fencer. Real proud."

I smiled and leaned in through the window. "Thanks, Adrian," I said, kissing him on the cheek.

"Aw, Little Fencer. If you wanted some of this," he teased, gesturing to his body, "all you had to do was ask."

"I'll keep that in mind, Adrian." I rolled my eyes. "Where're we putting out bags?"

"I'm only here for you, Eddie, Sparky, and Mason," he said. "Stan's coming to pick up Alberta. She has to go to the club first. She's going to take your stuff."

"Oh," I said, slightly surprised.

"Hey Sparky, Eddie, Mason, Alberta!" Adrian called over my shoulder.

"Hi Adrian!" Christian yelled back. "You gonna screw my sister or not? Cause if you are, then I have a little something to tell you."

"Don't worry about Rose's innocence; I won't be the one to take it," he laughed. "Now get it!"

I pulled my head out of the window and walked over to Alberta, hugging her. "Bye Alberta, thanks for everything," I said sincerely.

"You're welcome, Rose. I'll take your luggage and you can go home with Mr. Ivashkov, Mr. Castile, Mr. Ashford, and of course your brother, Mr. Ozera." My parents had respected my adopted brother's wishes when he was thirteen and wanted to be called by his old last name. Officially, he was Christian Ozera- Mazur but everyone just said Christian Ozera.

I parted ways with Alberta and had the three boys squeeze in the back while I sat up front with Adrian. Eventually, my exhaustion began to take its toll and I drifted off into sleep while we drove home.


	3. Change in Leadership

**_A/N: Thank you to the six reviews I've received so far! They've all been very positive and I appreciate them a lot. It's nice to know that people enjoy my story._**

**_Disclaimer: I do not own VA. Richelle Meade does._**

**Chapter III**

"Rosie, wake up."

"I don't want to," I mumbled.

"Rosie, get up."

"Just give me five fucking minutes," I grumbled, turning away from the noise.

"Rose wake the fucking hell up!"

I opened my eyes and saw that I was still fully clothed in my bed. The clock on my nightstand said that it was 9:27 pm. What the fuck? Didn't we get back at like, four? When I mentioned this to Christian he just laughed.

"What, Sparky?" I growled. I was not someone you wanted to be near when I wake up."

"We got home around 4:30, and you were asleep, so Adrian carried you in and I tucked you in bed. You slept for over five hours, and I just had to remind you that despite the time difference, you have practice tomorrow at St. Vlad's.

"Fuck practice," I muttered. "Can I go back to sleep now?"

Christian sighed and ran a pale hand through his jet black hair, his piercing ice blue eyes meeting my brown ones. "Yes, you can."

"'Kay," I mumbled, already half-asleep. I closed my eyes and was out in less than a second.

~ o O o ~

The alarm blared and I curled up deeper into my pillow, trying to block out the damn sound. Needless to say, the stupid thing didn't shut up and I groaned as I got out of bed, my hair a mess on my head. I walked across the plush bloodred carpet of my room to the other side and fumbled with my alarm, finally turning it off after a couple drowsy attempts. Little persistent piece of shit.

I yawned and walked over to my dresser, opening up the top drawer. Already laid out were eleven sets of workout clothes. I always had at least seven sets so that in the morning I wouldn't do something stupid like wear all the same color. I grabbed the first set and tossed it all on, not really paying any attention to what I was wearing.

I slipped my St. Vlad's jacket on and ran downstairs and into the kitchen, stopping at the bathroom to brush my teeth quickly and to rake a comb through my tangled hair.

"Chrissy!" I yelled without looking around, "Are you up yet?"

"Right here, Rose," he replied with a smirk. I looked over and saw him eating toast, wearing a solid black t-shirt, black sweat pants, and his St. Vladimir's jacket. His hair was a little mussed up from sleeping and he was scrolling through something on his iPhone.

"Whatcha looking at?" I asked, walking over to the cupboards and grabbing a plastic bowl.

"Results," he replied. We left before the end of the tournament and there were still three St. Vlad's fencers competing in the youth events. Two of them were honestly not that good, but there was one promising one, Jill Mastrano. She also happened to worship me, which is probably why I like her so much. Hey, I like my followers.

"Jill got 5th in the Y14," he said. "Her record after pools was four and one and her seeding for DE's was tenth. She was eliminated by some girl from Utah."

I grimaced as I poured some Frosted Flakes into my bowl and then adding milk. "Too bad. What was the score?"

"15-12," he replied. "It was really close."

I nodded as I brought my bowl over and grabbing a spoon along the way. I took my seat across from Christian, who was finishing up his orange juice. "Who stayed to coach her?" I asked.

"Mikhail Tanner," he replied. I nodded. Mikhail was a younger coach but he was awesome. Far better than Stan Alto, one of the older coaches, in my opinion. Stan wasn't _that_ old, not as old as Alberta, definitely, or Kirova. But at least Alberta was cool and Kirova… well, we have a _complicated _relationship. Stan, on the other hand, was an asshole.

I shoveled cereal into my mouth as quickly as I could and finished in two minutes. Christian had already finished and was packing up our bags, moving our equipment from the carry-on suitcases to the bags. When I was ten, my bag got lost somehow and ended up in Colorado instead of Kentucky. I had to buy all new equipment in order to fence and ended up not doing well because I wasn't used to the feel of my foils and the new shoes weren't broken in. To prevent that from happening, when Christian or I travel on planes, we always put our normal clothes in the fencing bags and our fencing gear in our carry-on suitcases to prevent them from getting lost.

I got up and brought my bowl to the sink and filled it up with water. Running to the front door, I took my phone out from my pocket and checked the time. It was 5:45 already. Shit. I was going to be late. It was a twenty minute drive to VFA (St. **V**ladimir's **F**encing **A**cademy) and Alberta expected us there at six.

I slipped my sneakers on, running out the door. I locked the door behind me and ran to the car. Christian had already put the bags in, thank god, and he already started the car. I was a little pissed- the first one out has to put the bags in but also gets to drive. Sparky always gets to drive.

I hopped into the front seat and buckled up. Almost immediately after I shut the door, Christian pulled out of our driveway. I grinned sleepily and rested my head back. I was too sleepy to give Sparky any shit for being first today.

I woke up as Christian parked the car in front of VFA. I got out of the car and got my fencing bag out of the trunk. I rolled it up the ramp and ran into St. Vlad's. I checked my phone. 6:03. Shit. Alberta had a system for latecomers: five pushups for every minute you walk in late.

I signed in at the front and rolled my bag into the bag area and slipped off my sweatpants, the chill of the air hitting my mostly bare legs. I ignored it and slipped on my Nike fencing shoes and ran to the track, Christian following me. St. Vladimir's was actually a multi-sport club; it included swimming, track, fencing, soccer, basketball, baseball, softball, hockey, field hockey, golf, boxing, wrestling, and gymnastics. My best friend, Vasilisa Dragomir (aka Lissa) did gymnastics and my other friend, Mia Rinaldi, did field hockey.

Alberta was waiting, tapping her right foot impatiently on the ground and checking her watch. She tsked at us. "You two are both seven minutes late. I don't think I have to do the math for you. I'm not letting you off the hook just for being national finalists."

I suppressed a groan and dropped down and started the pushups. The first twenty weren't bad, but the next five were torture. At around the twenty-five mark, my drowsiness and sluggishness started to wear away and I began feeling like myself again, making the next ten a breeze.

I got up and saw Christian finishing his up. "Can't take the heat, Sparky?" I teased. "I thought that you were supposed to be a pyromaniac."

He paid me no attention at first, but once he finished, the first thing he said was "Don't be so sure, Rosie. I've got a lighter on me and I'm not afraid to use it."

I burst out laughing. "Is that all you've got, Pyro?" I teased.

Alberta shook her head. "Christian, warm up with a mile and a half. Rose, I need to talk to you for a moment."

I frowned as Christian shot me a confused look before taking off.

"Rose, sit," Alberta said, taking a seat on the floor. I did as she told, sitting down on the track.

"What is it, Alberta?" I asked, concerned. Alberta never told me to sit down.

"I can't coach you anymore."

~ o O o ~

**_A/N: Okay, a few definitions/ clarifications:_**

**_Pool- the preliminary round of a fencing tournament. Basically, the fencers get split up into groups, or pools, of five to eight fencers each, and in each pool, all the fencers fence all of the other fencers in their pool. The round scores from this round is used to seed fencers in the Direct Elimination._**

**_Seed- the rankings in a tournament_**

**_DE- stands for Direct Elimination. The second and final round of a fencing tournament. Fencers are places on an elimination tableau (table) based on seeding from pools and then fence their opponents, loser goes home, winner moves on. In big tournaments such as Nationals, usually there is 80% promotion to DEs from pools (top 80% of fencers in pools based on ranking get to continue to DEs)._**

**_Record: a term used to describe how well a fencer does in pools. It's said as "(number) and (number)" where the first number is how many bouts you won and the second is how many you lost. So 'four and one' would mean "won four, lost one." _**


	4. Another Russian

**_A/N: Thank you to the current nine followers and six reviewers I have so far. I'm glad that you like my story. You guys are awesome. And just to clarify, I forgot to mention this last chapter, but in fencing tournaments, youth events are known as Y10, Y12, Y14, which stand for Youth 10, Youth 12, and Youth 14. Jill is currently 14 in this story, so it's her last year fencing Y14 (Youth 14). Rose, Christian, Eddie, and Mason all fence Division I, Division IA, and Open. There is a hierarchy of letter-ratings: U (unrated), E, D, C, B, and A. The four of them are all As. For 13+ year old fencers there are six main age/ ability categories: Cadet (age 13-17), Division III (D and under), Division II (C and Under), Division I (C and up), Division IA (all levels), and Open (all levels again). The term "Division IA" is typically used at larger tournaments to describe the "Open" category. _**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the VA characters. I only own the plot. Any dialogue, characters, plot ideas, or other you recognize from the books is not mine.**

**Chapter IV**

_Previously…_

_"Rose, I need to talk to you for a moment."_

_I frowned as Christian shot me a confused look before taking off._

_"Rose, sit," Alberta said, taking a seat on the floor. I did as she told, sitting down on the track. _

_"What is it, Alberta?" I asked, concerned. Alberta never told me to sit down._

_"I can't coach you anymore."_

~ o O o ~

"What do you mean, you can't coach me?" I asked, confused.

"The truth is, Rose, I'm getting old. I'm starting to run out of things to teach you. All my techniques are old. You're my last true private student- your brother doesn't count; he's technically coached by Mikhail. I think you'll be my last student, too," Alberta explained.

"But you've led me to victory so many times!" I protested. "You've been coaching me since I don't know how long! Why are you stopping?"

"I know, Rose," she said, smiling sadly. "I've never failed you. The past twelve years have been a great, wild rollercoaster ride, with its ups and its downs. But face it, you're going to the Olympics if not next year, then in four years. You've been taking home National Championship medals since you were eight! Everything I've built for you is leading to the Olympics, Rose. The thing is, I don't think I'll be the one to bring you there."

"But Alberta, I want _you_, at my side! Not my mom, not Mikhail, definitely not Stan, but you!"

"It doesn't matter Rose," she replied. "I'm retiring from private coaching. I'm an old woman of sixty years. The arthritis is taking its toll, and you need a younger instructor to teach you, one who can bout with you like I can't anymore."

Deep down, I knew that I had lost. In fact, I had lost this argument before it began; Alberta would never have backed down. "Then who will be coaching me?" I asked, resigned.

"He's a friend of mine. We met when I was coaching Mikhail at the Olympics in Novosibirsk seven years ago, and again in Vienna, three years ago," she hinted.

"Have I met him?" I asked. "I went with you to Vienna, remember?"

"Of course I remember," Alberta chided. "I'm not an old senile bat yet. Anyways, no, you didn't meet him, but you watched him fence. In fact if I remember correctly, he eliminated Mikhail in the Round of Eight and you said to me, 'That man is very graceful when he fences. It's like he's dancing and yet there's an aura of power around him.'"

I thought back. I didn't remember that I'd said he was graceful, but I did remember who eliminated Mikhail. "He's Russian, right?" I asked.

"Of course," Alberta replied. Great. Another Russian. Sometimes, it seems like other than Jill, Eddie, and Mason, I seemed to be the only non-Russian at this club. Alberta was Russian, Stan, Adrian, Lissa, and Mikhail were of Russian descent, and even Christian was originally Russian.

"His last name was Belikov, right?" I asked, recalling that bit of information. "His lame was silvery-white."

"Yes, Rose. His last name is Belikov," Alberta replied.

"D. Belikov. That was his name."

"Correct again," she replied. "Do you remember his first name?"

"No," I groaned.

"Dimitri. Dimitri Belikov," she answered.

"Dimitri Belikov." I thought back to the database I memorized of Olympic fencers. "Russian, hometown of Baia, Russia, three siblings, right-handed, brown hair, brown eyes, six foot seven, two-time Olympic gold-medalist, age twenty-four going on twenty-five," I recited.

"Err, yeah," Alberta replied.

"But Alberta," I asked, thinking of something. "If he's only twenty-four, then why isn't he competing in the Olympics next year? Shouldn't he be training, not coaching an American Olympic contender?"

"It's complicated," Alberta explained. "But he's competing for the US next year. It's been three years since his last international competition representing Russia and he's been sporadically living in New York with one of his older sisters for the past five years, fulfilling his residence criteria. He's taken the citizen's test and is now officially a US citizen."

"Why isn't he representing his own country?" I asked. "You hiring cheap foreign labor?"

"No, Rose. He had a few _issues _in Russia last year and has sought asylum in the United States."

I snorted. "What'd the bad boy do?"

"He was a prominent member in the anti-Putin protest," she replied stiffly.

"Oh. I was hoping that he committed murder or something," I joked.

Alberta mumbled something that sounded like, "he did," though I might've imagined it.

"What was that?" I asked.

"Nothing. He'll be here for your practice tomorrow morning, and will be here observing your practices for the remainder of the week. This week will be my last coaching you privately," she told me. My heart dropped. I had even less time with here than I thought.

"This conversation is over," she told me. "Go run on the track. Half a mile. Your brother is probably with Mikhail by now. After you're done, go to the weight room and do twenty reps on each machine with the maximum amount of weight you can handle. Afterwards, do fifty consecutive pushups, one hundred consecutive sit-ups, and stretch for at least fifteen minutes and no longer than half an hour. I need to do some work in the office. After you're done stretching, head on over to the salle and start doing your footwork, same routine as always."

I nodded.

"What are you standing there for, you lazy bastard? Go!"

I sprinted off and started running, and I swore that I heard Alberta say, "I'm going to miss her."

**_A/N: Okay, one more term. A salle is where you fence, basically the gym/ club. That's all though, (yay!). I know that this chapter was lacking in action and was mainly dialogue, but at least you know Dimitri's back story. Dimitri POV next chapter (maybe)! I'm not sure, though. This weekend I've been updating very frequently, but I can't promise to update so much during the week days- I have school and I have a lot of homework and such. But hopefully I'll be able to update a lot on weekends so that should make up for it. I may update tomorrow, but I'm not sure, but at the very least, I promise to update next Saturday/ Sunday._**

**_~42_**


	5. Arrival in Montana

**_A/N: Again, thank you for all the positive reviews I've received so far! It makes me really happy whenever I read a new one and it's good to know that people enjoy my story. I kind of lied last chapter. This chapter will not all be DPOV. It will start with RPOV and then switch to DPOV. Next chapter they will meet! (And will be half DPOV half RPOV.)_**

**Disclaimer: I am not Richelle Meade, therefore Vampire Academy, such that they are VA characters, plot, or dialogue that you recognize, is not an element of my creation.**

**Chapter V**

_RPOV_

The morning's training had gone by pretty well. I'd finished my footwork and it was nearly eight o'clock now. I fixed my en garde position and looked back to the target, extending my arm and hitting the center.

"Hit from the fingers, Rose, not the shoulder!" Alberta barked. I grimaced and tried again, trying to focus on using my fingers to control my foil. It hit the target dead center again but this time, I heard Alberta's little 'hmph' of approval.

"Alberta, are you counting?" I asked her, disengaging once and hitting the target again.

"Yes, I am," she replied curtly. "You've done two hundred ninety-four so far."

I hit the target again. "Two hundred ninety-five, you mean. Five left to go."

I hit the target five more times, disengaging or double-disengaging on a few of them. once I reached three hundred, I relaxed and put my foil down, took off my glove and crackled my knuckles.

"I get a break now, right?" I asked her.

She nodded. "Three minutes. Then you get a hundred lunges, then a hundred advance-lunges, then a hundred advance-double-retreat-advance-lunges."

I groaned and laid down on the floor, staring up to the ceiling. I heard my heavy breaths as I breathed in and out and my forehead was slick with sweat. And just to think, this was only half of my morning routine. I got to repeat this again in the afternoon after my lunch break. Oh joy.

_DPOV (around noon)_

A car horn honked and I looked up from my western. It was a red Mercedes with the license plate "AIVSHKV." There was a sign on the dashboard saying, "D. BELIKOV, J. MASTRANO, AND M. TANNER VFA."

Well, this was my car. I was going to coach an Olympic contender at St. Vladimir's Fencing Academy, and they arranged for me to fly in the same day and time as a competitor and a coach so that I could ride over to them. I would be living with Mikhail Tanner, another coach there who I had fenced in the Olympics three years ago.

I got up and slung my brown leather messenger bag over my shoulder. There had been a VFA car earlier but it was luggage only, so I had already put my suitcases and fencing bag in there.

I walked over to the car and saw a girl of about fourteen years and a man about my age walking over as well. They were both wearing St. Vladimir's fencing jackets and were each carrying a bag, the girl a one-shoulder bag and the man a black North Face backpack. They saw me and waved to me.

"Belikov!" the man greeted, shaking my hand. "Mikhail Tanner. I fenced you at Vienna three years ago, remember?"

"Of course," I replied. "You did very well. The score was close." It wasn't really- I had beaten him 15-7, not exactly the closest score.

"Thank you. You fence very well as well," he replied with a smile. "Oh, this is Jillian Mastrano, known as Jill. She's an Y14 foil fencer," he added, gesturing to the girl.

"Hi," she said shyly.

"Pleasure to meet your acquaintance," I smiled, shaking her hand. "Whose car is this?"

"Adrian Ivashkov. He's a soccer player at St. Vladimir's but his family's into fencing. They were very disappointed when he found his calling in soccer instead, among other things," Mikhail told me. "He hangs out at the fencing division a lot, though, and his aunt's President of the VFA Council."

"Ivashkov? Any relation to Nathan Ivashkov?" I asked. Nathan Ivashkov was a Russian fencer before my time. He had a reputation for being arrogant and rude.

"Yes, actually, Nathan's his father," Mikhail replied.

"Is his personality similar?" I asked in disdain.

"No, not really. He's kind of a womanizer but he respects his women somewhat," Mikhail replied.

I nodded. "Are you riding up front?"

"No, you can. I'll sit with Jill." He leaned closer. "She's somewhat infatuated with you, not romantically, but she regards you like a god in the fencing universe," he told me. "She'd probably have a heart attack if she sat next to you."

Ah, another fan. "Of course."

I walked over to the front seat and opened the door. The driver was a pale, lean, and tall man, though nowhere near as tall as I was. He had light brown hair and emerald green eyes and was wearing all designer brands. "Dimitri Belikov, right?"

I nodded. "You must be Adrian Ivashkov."

"That I am," he laughed. "Sorry," he said, "I haven't had any alcohol yet today so I'm a little unhinged."

I frowned at that. "Usually people act strangely after consuming alcohol, not before," I said tentatively.

"But I'm not a normal or as you put it, 'usual' person," he said. "Misha, Jailbait, you two all set?" he asked, looking over to Jill and Mikhail.

"We're good," he replied.

"Why do you call Jillian 'Jailbait'?" I asked as he began driving.

"Cuz that's what she is; jailbait," he replied. "I'd do her if she weren't so young."

"Shut up, Adrian," Jill called.

"That is revolting, Ivashkov," I said, furrowing my brow.

"It kind of is, isn't it?" he replied with a smirk. "But don't worry, there's plenty of jailbait at St. Vlad's. All the cute girls are underage."

I frowned. Adrian was very forward with his sexual tendencies. "You haven't broken the law and had intercourse with any of them, have you?"

"No, sadly," he said. "I've tried to woo Little Fencer every way I could but she always turned me down."

"As she should," I replied firmly.

"Whatever. She'll be of age at the end of the month," he shrugged.

The car ride was long and after about an hour, I spoke up again. "Ivashkov, I thought we were already in Missoula. It cannot be an hour drive from the airport back to where we'll be staying."

"No. We live in St. Vladimir," he replied.

"I thought St. Vladimir's was the sports club," I said, confused.

"No, it's actually a small town right next to Missoula. Nobody's ever heard of it so we all just say 'Missoula' instead of 'St. Vladimir,'" he informed me.

"How long's the drive then?" I asked.

"About three more minutes," Adrian said, exiting the highway. We turned onto a small local road. A sign said "Entering St. Vladimir, Montana. Population: 2,480." I sighed. It looks like this will be my home for the next year.

**_A/N: Clarifications: _**

**_Weapons- In fencing there are three different weapons, or types: foil, epee, and sabre. The characters in this story all fence foil. A 'sword,' as most would call it, in fencing is either a foil, epee, or sabre, so when a character mentions his/her foil, he/she means his/her 'sword.' _**

**_Footwork- In fencing, there are specific bits of footwork used. And advance is a step forward, a retreat is a step backwards, and a lunge is, well, a lunge. Putting 'double' in front of advance or retreat would just mean 'two advances' or 'two retreats.'_**

**_A note on dates: I screwed up earlier when I said Rose was 17 at Nationals. Division I (and Wheelchair) Nationals are held during April Break. Rose's birthday was supposedly in late March, so she should've been 18. But, as Adrian mentioned this chapter, Little Fencer (Rose) is still underage but will become legal at the end of the month, so I'm changing Rose's birthday to the end of April instead of the end of March. Sorry about that._**

**_~42_**


	6. The Prodigies Meet

**_A/N: Well, this looks like the last update this weekend. L. I'll probably update again around next Saturday, give or take a day. If I don't, you have the right to angrily PM me. But… they meet this chapter! It's going to be a bit (fine, like twice as long) longer than the other chapters, because I want to include both DPOV _****and ****_RPOV. Oh, and some background on Dimitri this chapter! Thanks for the new reviews! _**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Academy. I wish I did, but I don't.**

**Chapter VI**

_DPOV- (the next day)_

_beep beep. Beep Beep. BEEP BEEP. BEEP BEEP! BEEEEEEEEEP! BEEEEEEEEEP!_

I groaned and got out of bed, turning my alarm on my phone off. It was four o'clock (AM) and I still had two hours until I had to go observe my new student's morning training. Mikhail was still asleep, oblivious and impervious to my screeching alarm.

After brushing my teeth and combing my hair, putting it into a ponytail, I walked over to my suitcase and dug out my sweats from being on the Russian Olympic Team and threw them on over a royal blue cotton t-shirt. I had to admit, white and red were not my best colors, but they were the colors on the jacket. Putting on a pair of socks and sneakers, I quietly left the room, Mikhail never waking up. He was such a deep sleeper.

Taking my phone and my red lanyard with me- on which were my house keys from my sister's house in New York, my family home in Russia, and now, my keys to Mikhail's house and my new VFA-provided car's keys, I left the house, locking the door behind me. Putting my the music on my iPhone on 'shuffle,' I took off for my early morning run.

_Half an hour later…_

I locked the front door behind me and walked back into Mikhail's apartment. He was still asleep. I checked my watch and saw that it was 4:42 AM. I took off my jacket and hung it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs and walking back into the room I shared with Mikhail. He apparently used to room with Stan Alto, another VFA coach, but he moved out earlier, so I took his place.

Mikhail had a small house- just one bedroom, a kitchen, two bathrooms, a living room, an office, a laundry room, a garage, and a basement, in which were a punching bag, mats, weights, a pull-up bar, a treadmill, and an electric fencing strip. Apparently he used to bout with Stan.

I walked into the bedroom and saw Mikhail sleeping soundly, snoring very softly. I walked in, careful not to disturb him from his restful slumber, and changed into a new black t-shirt and socks. Exiting the room, I went to the kitchen, planning to make some breakfast.

I looked in the refrigerator and found what I wanted. Mikhail had plenty of eggs, milk, and when I looked into the cupboard, flour. I got out a couple bowls and got to work making my favorite breakfast- blini. Blini were basically pancakes, and they were my favorite from when I was a child.

Around five, I was done with the blini and stacked them on two plates, and I got some butter and sugar to put on them. I made enough for Mikhail to have some too, so I went into our room to wake him up.

Mikhail was already up and had just pulled on his jacket. He was wearing a black t-shirt like me but he was wearing black VFA sweats with red and white piping, the letters VFA embroidered in white on the left leg. Over it he had a similar jacket, black with red and white piping, with 'St. Vladimir's Fencing Academy' embroidered on the back in white outlined with red, and a shield-shaped black, red, and white crest sewn over the left breast. In addition, M. TANNER, COACH was embroidered on his left sleeve in white.

"Good morning, Dimitri," he greeted. "Where were you? I was worried when I didn't see you when I woke up."

"I went out for a morning run," I told him. "You have Russian heritage, no?"

"Yeah, I do," he replied. "Why?"

"I made blini for breakfast," I replied.

"Blini? Jesus, I haven't had that in years!" Mikhail exclaimed. "You can cook?"

"Yes. My mother taught me when I was young. I ate so much she said that I would eat her out of house and home and she said that I should know how to cook for myself," I said sheepishly.

"Wow, blini," Mikhail muttered.

"It's on the table, if you want it," I offered.

"I'm sold," he replied.

We walked over to the kitchen together and I got him a fork and knife. "So, Mikhail," I started, taking a bite of blini with some butter and sugar on it, "What is your life like?"

"It's pretty good," he replied between mouthfuls of food. "You?"

"It is good. I have been very satisfied with life in America so far. What family do you have?" I asked.

"I'm an only child. My mother is Russian and my father is American, I'm not quite sure from where. They live together in actual Missoula. I have a fiancée, though."

"Really? What is her name?" I asked, interested.

"Sonya. Sonya Karp. We've been engaged for a few months now, and we're planning to get married sometime in the winter after the Olympics," he beamed. "What about you?"

"Well, I have four sisters, a nephew, and a niece. My father is… indisposed and my mother, Olena, my grandmother, Yeva, and my sisters, Sonya and Viktoria, all live together in Baia, Russia. My older sister, Karolina, who is twenty-six, lives in New York. She her son, Paul, who is currently eight, moved to New York City when he was three. My niece, Zoya was born when they were in New York, and she is fifteen months old. My other older sister, Sonya, who is twenty-three, still lives with Mama in Baia, and my sixteen year old sister, Viktoria, also fences," I told Mikhail.

It was one way of putting it, saying my father was "indisposed." My father was in prison for sexual and domestic abuse. He used to beat my mother. He was thrown into prison when I was thirteen after I came home from a bad day of school and found him beating my mother. I called the police, finally because I was, with no better way to put it, sick of his shit, and then beat him up myself.

"You have a big family," Mikhail noted.

"Yes, I do," I smiled. I finished up my blini and cleared the table, taking Mikhail's empty plate with me as well. "How long is the drive from here to St. Vlad's?" I asked.

"Ten minutes. Why?"

"I just wanted to know how long we had," I said. I checked the time. It was 5:45 and practice was at six. "Can we leave now? I would like to get there early."

"You can go ahead. Alberta usually warms Rose and Christian up together. I usually need to be there at six thirty, but I gave the morning off to Christian today until nine," Mikhail told me.

"Rose and Christian?" I asked, confused.

"Rosemarie. She prefers to be called 'Rose,'" Mikhail explained. "Christian is her adopted brother. He was actually adopted from Russia, somewhere in Siberia near Novosibirsk."

"Interesting," I mused. "Well, I am going to go now. I will see you later."

"Alright. See you, Dimitri," he called.

I left the house, putting my jacket on and taking my lanyard. In truth, I would have preferred to wear my favorite leather duster, but I had to make an impression as a serious and high-level fencer. Plus, I was going to practice, not out. If I were going anywhere else, I would have worn my duster, regardless of the circumstances.

I found my VFA car parked in Mikhail's garage already. The license plate read 'VFA29DB.' I looked at Mikhail's license plate. It read 'VFA31MT.' I unlocked the door and started up the car. It was a black Honda Accord and was very nice. I pulled out of Mikhail's driveway and started on the road to St. Vladimir's.

_Ten minutes later…_

I pulled into one of the coach's parking spaces. St. Vladimir's was somewhat like a compound, with one black iron gates with 'VA' written on them in gothic lettering and many different buildings with one central gothic-looking one. I guessed that 'VA' stood for 'Vladimir's Academy,' but I wasn't sure. Around the gothic building were many colorful other buildings, painted in red, blue, yellow, purple, and just about any other color.

I got out of my car and locked the door behind me and walked into the central building, next to which had a sign saying, 'Administration.' I checked the time. 5:56. I had four minutes to meet Rosemarie and Alberta at the track.

There was a receptionist and something similar to a waiting room. It reminded me of the headmaster's office at school, with the secretary and the hallway leading to various offices and ultimately, the headmaster's office.

"Can I help you?" she asked cheerfully. She took me in and I heard a sharp intake of breath. Like many women, she admired my body.

"Yes. I was wondering where the track was," I told her. "I am Dimitri Belikov and I just got here yesterday. I am supposed to take over for coaching Rosemarie Hathaway- Mazur and I am supposed to meet her and Alberta Petrov on the track."

"Oh yes," she said. "When you walk out of this building, turn right and there should be a big brick-red colored building. That would be the building the track is in."

"Thank you, err-"

"My name's Avery. Avery Lazar," she supplied.

"Thank you, Miss. Lazar."

I exited the administration building and checked the time again. _Govno!_ It was 5:58 already!

I ran to the track building and entered and my heart fell when I saw the various doors. There were 'Track 1,' 'Track 2,' 'Track 3,' and on all the way to 'Track 10.'

I took out my phone and found Alberta Petrov's contact. I called her and she answered quickly.

_"Hello? Dimitri?" _

"Hello Ms. Petrov-"

_"Please, call me Alberta."_

"Okay then. Hello, Alberta. I was wondering, which track do you want me to meet you at?"

_"Track 7."_

"Alright, thank you, Ms.- Alberta," I thanked.

_"No problem. I expect to see you in half a minute."_

She hung up and I put my phone back into my pocket before taking the door to Track 7. It led to a long hallway and I ran down it to reach another door, which led me to the actually track. _Slava bogu._

Standing at the track was Alberta Petrov. Alone. I ran up to her. "Excuse me, Alberta, where is Rosemarie?" I asked.

"She'll burst through the door in three… two…"

The door to the track burst open as a girl ran in. "Sorry I'm late, Alberta."

I took a moment to, for lack of better term, _check her out_. She had long hair that was dark, so dark it was nearly black but held the slightest red tint to it, which tumbled down a little past her ample breasts. She was of average height, between 5'6 and 5'9 and had a curvy figure. She was wearing a black t-shirt that said, "It's a known fact that we will kick your ass. Go cry about it somewhere else," in white on the front and "GO ST. VLAD'S!" in red on the back. She wore a black VFA jacket over it similar to Mikhail's but had R. HATHAWAY- MAZUR, FOIL embroidered on the left sleeve instead of M. TANNER, COACH. She was also wearing a pair of red athletic shorts with white knee socks rolled down and Nike sneakers. She was, I admit, very attractive. I see what Adrian meant about all the girls here being jailbait. Whenever I looked at her I felt a strange tingling inside.

"Don't worry," Alberta said dryly, "You're not late. You got here just on time."

"Thank god," she muttered. She then seemed to notice me.

_RPOV_

"Thank god," I muttered. No pushups for me _this _morning!

My gaze then flicked to Alberta's side. There was an extremely hot, muscular, and tall guy next to her. Seriously. He was, like, the _definition _of "tall, dark, and handsome," only he was wearing white and red Russian Olympic Team uniform sweats. He had chocolate brown eyes and hair, which was about shoulder-length and tied back in a ponytail. He towered over Alberta, and seemed at least 6'5, but no more than 6'8. Goddammit he was hot.

My first reaction was, "Who the fucking hell is this hottie?" but then I realized that it could only be one person. Dimitri Belikov. Three-time World Champion, two-time Olympic Champion, and eight-time Russian National Champion. Also known as my new coach. It was going to be hard keeping my hands off of him while all I wanted to do was kiss him, or better yet, fuck him.

"Coach Belikov, welcome," I greeted politely.

Alberta cocked an eyebrow as if to say, _"Why so polite?" _and Dimitri smiled. God, I would die for one of those smiles. His teeth were perfect and dazzlingly white and the way the corners of his eyes crinkled ever-so-slightly made me feel all warm and bubbly inside.

"Please, call me Dimitri," he said. He has an accent. Jesus he has the sexiest accent in the world. It was a Russian accent, and though I practically grew up with people with Russian accents (Christian used to have one when we were little), his was just so sexy and hot.

"Of course, Dimitri," I corrected.

"You are Rosemarie, correct?" he asked with that delicious accent of his.

"That I am," I replied. "But _please_, call me Rose."

"Rose," he said, testing out the name. "So, Rose, what do you usually do to warm up?"

I glanced at Alberta as she turned to Dimitri. "Rose usually warms up with one and a half miles around the track, which should be six laps, seeing as a lap is equally to a quarter of a mile. Afterwards, we go into the weight room and have her do twenty reps on each machine with as much weight as she can handle, then one hundred pushups and one hundred sit-ups. Then she stretches for about twenty minutes and then we head on over to the salle and do footwork.

"After footwork she does three hundred hits on the target, one hundred lunges, one hundred advance-lunges, and then one hundred whatever-sequence-you-want-lunges. After that, she gets a two-hour lesson with breaks every twenty minutes, each break about two minutes long. After that, it should be somewhere around ten, which gives her a half-hour break before joining the Advanced Elite Foil Clinic that goes from ten-thirty to twelve-thirty.

"Then, she gets a lunch break from Twelve-thirty to two and comes back at two and repeats the whole warm-up procedure but substituting one hundred pushups for thirty pull-ups and one hundred sit-ups for two hundred crunches. After that, she gets a one-hour lesson with breaks every twenty minutes again and then at five, open bouting begins and she'll fence there until about eight," Alberta told him. I nearly facepalmed. He asked for my warm-up routine, not my whole daily-freaking schedule!

"And this is for the remainder of April Vacation, no?" Dimitri asked.

"Yes, this is for April Break," I told him. "On Saturdays, I follow a similar schedule only without the clinic and open bouting and on week days, I come in from four to six before school to get a lesson and I come from four to nine afterschool as well for working out in the gym, class, and then open bouting."

"You come to practice a lot," he noted. "Nearly as much as the Russian Olympic Team does. Are you certain that you will qualify?"

"Pretty certain," I replied. "I've been ranked number one for the past two years, so it's three years now. Next year will be the one that counts, though. I have to be in the top four to go to the Games in Melbourne next year, but so far, the fencer ranked second is usually trailing behind me by quite a few hundred points, so I feel pretty confident. No one's taking this bitch down."

He smiled and was about to say something else before Alberta interrupted him. "Rose, where's Christian?"

"Mikhail told me this morning that he was not expecting Christian until nine this morning," Dimitri responded before me.

"Yeah," I smirked, "Chrissy got a boo-boo yesterday so Misha sent him home early around three and told him that he could nurse his injuries at home."

"What did Christian do?" Dimitri asked.

"He dropped a weight on his head, the dumbass. I don't get how that's possible, but he did it and nearly got a concussion," I answered. Dimitri chuckled which made me grin.

"Rose?"

I looked over to Alberta. "Yeah?"

"Get your ass out there and warm up already. It's already six twenty!"

Ah fuck it. Trust Alberta to ruin my bonding time with Dimitri.

"What are you still doing? Go, go, GO!"

**_A/N: I hope that you liked this chapter. Not including this A/N, it has nearly three thousand words! That's over twice as many words as the longest chapter before! I really went big on this chapter. _**

**_I only have two Russian- English translations this chapter: _****Govno ****_means "shit" and _****slava bogu ****_means "thank god."_**

**_Oh, and a little note on USA Olympic Fencing Qualification. When a fencer does well (I think it's top 40%) at a big national tournament, they get a certain number of points based on their place, the number of people who competed, and the importance of the tournament. Every year, the points are cleared and restarted. For Olympic Qualification, the year of the Olympics, they take the top four (top three are priority, the fourth is a substitute in case if one of the top three is doing poorly or is sick or is injured) who have the most points after the Division I Championships in April when they add up their points from their top two results at either a Division I NAC (North American Cup) or at Division I Nationals (the point value of which will be counted as 120% of what it would normally be) _****and ****_their top five results from any Senior World Cup or Grand Prix Championships from May of the previous year to April of the current year or any World Championship from the previous year. These results must be FROM THE CURRENT SEASON UNLESS OTHERWISE SPECIFIED. Okay, so this note isn't _****that****_ little. If anyone is confused on this subject please tell me in either a review or a PM and I'll try to explain it in more depth. Or you can google it. _**

**_Thanks for sticking by me for this story,_**

**_~42_**


	7. New Names

**_A/N: Okay, so a few of you have asked how Christian managed to drop a weight on his head. I have no idea. I'm just going to say that he was a klutz and somehow managed it. Thank you again for all the positive reviews, and thank you to those who have favorited or followed this story. You guys rock!_**

**Disclaimer: I wish I owned Vampire Academy. Sadly, I don't. All the wonderful characters, dialogue, and/or plot belong to the wonderful and talented Richelle Meade!**

**Chapter VII**

_RPOV_

I took a long drink of water from my water bottle. Sweat was running down, soaking my shirt. I knew that I looked disgusting. I always did after practice.

I felt Dimitri's eyes on me. I had to admit, I loved his eyes. They were so deep and brown and soulful. _Soulful. _I never thought that I'd use that word to describe anything- or anyone. But then again, I'd never been this attracted to someone before.

If I wasn't already so hot and sweaty, his stare would've brought a red blush to my cheeks. But my face was already red from working so hard. I'd already done my warm-up and footwork, and it was time for my lesson now.

I took one last sip of water before capping my water bottle and rifling through my bag. I picked my glove, mask, and foil and then jogged over to Alberta, for the last part of my lesson. Dimitri was still standing nearby, about a strip away. He'd taken off his white jacket and was wearing a black t-shirt underneath- which was a good color on him. The shirt was tight enough that you could see the faint outline of the hard muscles in his chest and abdomen, but loose enough that it wasn't awkward. I bit my lip. Damn he was sexy.

"Hurry up, Hathaway!" Alberta yelled. I picked up my pace and ran over to her. Alberta frequently just referred to me by my last name. Hathaway-Mazur was a little long, and it didn't have the same feel as just Hathaway.

I smiled at Alberta as I stood in front of her. She saluted my with her foil and I saluted back before putting my mask on. She did the same and I fell into en garde position effortlessly. Alberta took on a slightly shallower position, as she was getting a bit old. The arthritis was starting to kick in, as she put it.

I could still feel the burn of Dimitri's gaze. I glanced over at him for a second. He was watching me intently, mentally evaluating everything I did. I gulped slightly before turning back to Alberta.

She lowered her foil and I extended my arm to hit her, a smooth and easy movement. The motions relaxed me and I took a breath and shut off my brain and just let muscle memory and instincts take over.

_DPOV_

I watched Rose as she took the rest of her lesson. It was as if she did not have to think at all, as if this was all natural to her. Of course, it probably was, with her mother and all. Janine Hathaway was an awed and worshipped name in the fencing world. Though she might not be the most decorated Olympian, she is definitely the most decorated fencer.

I watched as Rose and Alberta began to move down the strip. I squatted down, watching her footwork. I watched her already while she was practicing her footwork, but it was one thing practicing, a whole other using it in context.

She had a huge lunge. She could make it at least from en garde line to en garde line with one lunge. I noticed other little things too, like how she tilted her head slightly to the left and how she would pull at the left leg of her shorts, and occasionally the right leg. She seemed so relaxed and unprepared, her movements seemingly sloppy, but the moment she sensed a threat she tensed up and would strike back.

I watched her and before long, I was mesmerized by her long, endless legs, her flawless and tanned skin, and the way her body moved. I nearly slapped myself in disgust. She was my soon-to-be student, and if that was not enough, she was eight years my junior. _Seven, _I reminded myself. She will be turning eighteen at the end of the month, whereas I had turned twenty-five earlier. But seven years was still a lot.

The twenty minutes had passed quickly and before I knew it Rose was done with her lesson. I made my way over to her.

"Hey there, Comrade," she said.

"Comrade?" I asked, confused.

"You know, Soviet Russia, soldiers, comrades, all that junk," she said nonchalantly.

I raised an eyebrow at her words. "You don't even know what you're talking about," I told her.

"Sure I do," she argued. "I had to do report on Russia and the R.S.S.R. last year.

"U.S.S.R.," I corrected her. "I feel bad for your history teacher."

"He's an ass," she argued.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Stan Alto. The biggest dickhead in the world," she snorted.

"Isn't Stan Alto a coach here?" I asked, confused.

"Yeah, he is. He also teaches at St. Vladimir's High School. So does Alberta. She's one of the gym teachers," she told me.

I smiled. "What is it between you and Coach Alto?" I asked her.

"Eh, you know, never liked him. He's just mad that I kicked his ass when I fenced him in the seventh grade. You know, men and their egos. He's just upset that I, as a twelve year old, beat him, a twenty-four year old."

I chuckled. "I believe that. You are an amazing fencer. You probably could have beat him back then."

"Dammit!"

"What?" I asked, confused by her sudden cursing.

"I finally got you to use a contraction and then you just stopped!" she huffed.

"What do you mean?"

"You never say 'what's' or 'didn't' or anything like that. You always say 'what is' or 'did not' and to be honest, it makes you sound really old," she explained.

"But I am old," I replied.

"No you're not," she argued. "You're twenty-four. I could totally date someone who's twenty-four."

I raised a brow at that comment. "I am seven years older than you. That is pretty old."

"How do you do that?"

I raised a brow. "How do I do what?"

"That! That cool eyebrow-lifty-thing!"

"What? This?" I raised a single eyebrow up and down as she groaned. She attempted to do it herself but she ended up looking so funny. I began to laugh and she glared at me.

"It's not funny!"

I stopped laughing and then looked at her seriously. "I noticed some things from your lesson with Coach Petrov," I said.

"Really, o wise master?" she smirked, but in her eyes I could tell that she wanted to know.

"Yes. You have very excellent attacks, but your disengages are not good enough. You often rely on brute force to break through your opponent's parries, which is not good. What would happen if you met an opponent stronger than you?" I asked seriously.

"I won't," she protested.

"Yes you will. I will bet that I am much stronger than you. What will you do if I parry you?"

"I'll counter-parry," she shot back.

"What if you are too close?" I countered.

"Then I'll close my eyes and hope for the best," she said, resigned. "Fine, I'll work on my disengages, happy?"

"Very," I replied.

"Okay, I'd love to stay and chat, Comrade, but I have to go. The clinic starts in fifteen minutes and I'm disgusting right now. I have to change and grab something to eat."

"Alright. Goodbye, Roza," I said, using her name in Russian.

"Roza?" she asked.

"It's 'Rose' in Russian," I explained.

"Roza," she said, testing it out. "I like it."

I smiled. It was a beautiful name. "Goodbye, Roza," I said again.

"See you, Comrade."

**_A/N: The update's a little late, and I apologize for that. As you can see, their nicknames were introduced in this chapter. Also, I'm not sure if I've specified this yet, but the en garde position is the starting position in fencing. The en garde lines are where the two fencers start at the beginning of a bout. They are supposedly four meters apart. _**

**_~42_**


	8. Last Lesson

**_A/N: Sorry about the lack of/ late update(s) this weekend. It's been crazy. I'll try to update more next weekend or hopefully sooner. This chapter's going to skip to the end of the week, because honestly, I don't have any ideas for anything between the last chapter (which was kind of slow itself) and Rose and Alberta's last lesson. So yeah._**

**_Oh, and another thing I forgot to say last chapter. At the beginning and end of every bout or lesson or drill in fencing, you always salute your opponent/coach. Every fencer has their own little variation of the salute, but it is taught as first extending your weapon arm to point at your opponent/coach, then pointing it at the ceiling, and then swooshing it down. _**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Vampire Academy, words couldn't describe how happy I'd be. Sadly, I don't. :(**

**Chapter VIII**

_RPOV_

I felt tears welling up in my eyes as I saluted Alberta after a lesson for the last time. "Thank you, Alberta. Thank you so much. It's been a great what, twelve years officially? It's more like seventeen, though. I feel like you've been in my life since I was born," I said, hugging her.

"Well, that's because I have, haven't I? I coached your mother, remember? I was at your baby shower and at your parents' wedding. And trust me, I won't be leaving your life any time soon. I'm still working here, after all," she said, smiling. She wiped away a couple of my tears, gazing at me with her own tear-filled eyes. "Now make me proud and be good for Dimitri."

I nodded. "I will, Alberta. You bet I will." I finally separated myself from her arms and saw Dimitri standing at the end of the strip, watching our heartfelt moment. He looked yummy as usual; his hair was still slightly damp from his shower earlier, his t-shirt was clinging snugly to his chest, and his sweatpants were hanging loosely off his hips. Mmm.

I wiped away a few mores and inhaled a shaky breath. This was it. My last lesson with Alberta, over. I walked over to my bag and dropped my mask and foil down and ripped off my glove. I sighed, taking my hair tie out and running a hand threw my sweaty hair. Eew. I needed a shower.

"Roza."

I turned around and saw Dimitri standing behind me. "Hey Comrade," I said. "Well, you're officially my coach now."

"Yes, I supposed I am," he said. "Alberta has taught you well but I believe that I have more to teach you, more moves to show you."

"Really, Comrade?" I raised my eyebrows at him. I still couldn't do the cool one-eyebrow thing. "Are fencing moves you're going to teach me?" I waggled my eyebrows.

He slightly blushed. "What else would I teach you, Roza?" he asked, his accent slightly thicker than before. God it sounded so sexy.

"I don't know. You tell me," I said, smiling my man-eater smile at him.

He chuckled. "What will I do with you, Roza?" he asked.

"I have a lot of ideas," I told him seriously.

"Nothing sexual, Roza. You know that," he groaned.

"I wasn't going to suggest anything sexual," I protested innocently. "I was going to ask if you wanted to have dinner with me, Lissas, Christian, Mia, Eddie, Adrian, and Mason."

"Oh." I crossed my fingers, hoping that he'd say yes. "I would love to Roza. Where are you going?"

"Charlie's," I told him.

He scrunched up his nose in confusion. "Charlie's?" he asked.

"It's a diner," I explained. "They have the best fries- regular, cheese, chili, sweet potato, they have them all!"

I smiled. "What time?" I asked her.

"We're meeting at my place at six," I told him.

"It's five thirty," he said.

"I know. If you want to come, then you're following me home."

**_A/N: Sorry for the super short chapter guys! Don't kill me! But Rose and Dimitri are going out to dinner… with the others, of course but still._**

**_Oh yeah, and I'm thinking about starting a new story. Actually, I'm thinking about starting multiple new stories, but I don't think I can handle more than two stories at a time. I know that I don't update a lot, but I can promise at least one update per weekend, maybe (hopefully) more. So for the new story, I was thinking about something like this:_**

**The day after Rose and Dimitri's passionate night in the cabin, Dimitri decides to leave and take Tasha's offer. Fifteen years later, Rose is Lissa's guardian, who is teaching Spirit at St. Vlad's. What happens when Dimitri, Tasha, and their son, Alexei, come to the academy? Dimitri was never taken in the attack.**

**_What do you think? Like it? Review and tell me, please! If enough people like the idea, I'll publish. I've already written a few chapters…_**

**_~42_**


	9. At the Diner

**_A/N: Hey, sorry about the late/ lack of updates. This chapter's sort of just a filler chapter. After this chapter I'll probably post one more before skipping a couple months through time. Of course, this is all tentative. I'm just giving a possible outline for the next few chapters so you know what's coming._**

**Disclaimer: Though it would make me the happiest girl in the world, I do not own Dimitri, or Adrian, or Christian, or Eddie, or any of Vampire Academy characters, plots, or dialogue. :(**

**Chapter IX**

_DPOV_

I followed Rose's car to her house, a small pale green average-looking suburban house. She pulled into the driveway and I parked my black Honda behind her van. She got out of the car and came over to the driver's side of mine. She motioned for me to roll down the window and so I did. She leaned in through the window and smiled.

"Well, this is it. My house," she said. I could not help but stare at her lips, mesmerized by their fullness, plump and red, just begging to be kissed.

I blinked a couple of times to clear my head. "It is nice," I smiled.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Come one!" she said, stepping back. I rolled up the window. I turned the car off and got out, locking it behind me. I followed her inside and surveyed my surroundings. There was a staircase leading up to what looked like three bedrooms and a bathroom. The walls were painted a light blue color and the hardwood floor was a deep reddish mahogany color.

"You have a beautiful home," I said. "Where is Christian?"

"He went home with Lissa after practice. They're coming over together," Rose explained, bringing me into the living room. The walls were light blue as well, but with black carpet. There were two black leather sofas and a flat screen TV and a cherry wood coffee table. The doorbell rang. "That should be them. Excuse me for a second."

She left me in the living room and I heard her open the door. I looked around. the kitchen had a peninsula counter and the cabinets and kitchen table were all white. There were only a few pictures on the walls, one that looked like on of Christian's old school pictures from second grade or something, one family portrait that only had an adorable baby Rose and two adults who I guessed were their parents, and one old school picture of Rose that was from third grade or something. She was adorable, her dark hair cascading down around her shoulders and she was wearing a bright red polo shirt. She was smiling slightly, a smile almost Mona Lisa-esque.

I heard Rose talking with Christian and who I presumed to be Vasilisa and saw them come over to the living room. I smiled when I saw them. Vasilisa was tall and really slim, with platinum blonde hair and bright jade green eyes. She was beautiful, but not as much as Rose.

"Dimitri!" Christian exclaimed. "What are you doing here?" and at the same time, Vasilisa said, "Rose, who is this?"

"Rose invited me after practice today," I told Christian before turning to Vasilisa. "I presume that you are Vasilisa Dragomir?"

"Yes, I am," she replied. "And you are?"

"Dimitri Belikov," I said, extending my hand for her to shake. She took it and shook it firmly. "I am Rose's new fencing coach. I have been part of the Russian Olympic Team for eight years and have been guaranteed a place on Team USA next year," I told her.

"Nice to meet you, Dimitri," she said.

"Likewise, Vasilisa."

"Please, call me Lissa," she smiled.

I heard more voices at the door and three more boys and a girl came in. I recognized one of them to be Adrian Ivashkov and the other two I guessed to be the Mason, Eddie, and Mia Rose told me about.

"Dimitri!" Adrian greeted, slightly slurring his words. I cast a worried glance at Rose.

"Is he drunk?" I asked her.

"Adrian's always drunk," Rose groaned.

"I told you all the girls here jailbait, didn't I?" he laughed.

"Yes, yes you did," I grimaced. I turned to the other three. One of the boys had bright red hair and blue eyes while the other had sandy blond hair and hazel eyes. The girl had blonde hair and blue eyes and honestly, kind of looked like a doll with her bright eyes and curly doll-like ringlets.

"I take it you are Mia Rinaldi?" I asked the blonde.

"Yup. Dimitri Belikov, right?" she gushed, "Rose has told me all about you."

"Really? She has?" I asked, glancing at Rose.

"Of course! She said that you're smart and badass and super super super hot!"

"'Super super super hot?'" I asked, raising an eyebrow at Rose. She flushed red.

"You have to admit that you're pretty good looking," she retorted.

I only smiled, turning to the two boys. "And you two are Mason Ashford and Edison Castile?" I asked.

"Yeah. I'm Mason and the less good-looking one is Eddie," the redhead said.

"He's a bit self-conscious," Eddie fake-whispered, "He understands deep down that I'm ten times sexier than him."

"Yeah, to guys," Mason muttered. I heard Rose chuckle.

"We all ready to go?" she asked.

"Yeah," everyone replied.

"Okay, well we have eight people, so I guess we're taking two cars," she said.

"Why don't we take your minivan, Roza?" I asked.

"The minivan only holds seven," she said. "We'll take Mason and Mia's cars."

"You can use my baby only if I'm driving," Mason said.

"Fine by me," Rose shrugged. "Mason, Eddie, Dimitri, and I will go in one car, Mia, Lissa, Christian, and Adrian will be in the other."

"Well, let's go!" Eddie whooped.

_At the diner…_

The diner was loud, yet it was comfortable. A waitress came over to our booth with a tray of food. "I have your chili fries, steak fries, cheese fries, sweet potato fries, two cheeseburgers, veggie burger, double cheeseburger, hamburger, grilled cheese, two double hot dogs, and turkey burger," she said, setting them down on the table.

The veggie burger was for Lissa, one cheeseburger for Christian, one for Eddie, the grilled cheese for Mason, the turkey burger for Adrian, a double hot dog for Mia, the hamburger for me, and the double cheeseburger and double hot dog both for Rose. The fries were for everyone to share and I took a bite of the hamburger. It was good, but not as good as my mama's cooking from home.

"Roza, how do you eat so much?" I asked later. She had polished off her double cheeseburger and double hot dogs and was halfway through the chili fries.

"Nope. I'm a growing hungry girl," she said through a mouthful of fries. She was eating as much as I usually ate, which was a lot.

I'd gotten a feel for the personalities of everyone in the short half hour we've been here. Eddie and Mason were very light-hearted and enjoyed joking around, while Mia and Lissa were more girly but Mia was more… bubbly than Lissa, who although was very charismatic, was also a bit quiet. Adrian was… well, Adrian. Part-time alcoholic, smoker, player, and rich. Christian was pretty much a male version of Rose; he was just as sarcastic as she was.

"Alright, let's get going," Rose said. She waved a waitress over. "Can we get the bill?" she asked.

"Of course," the waitress said. She returned with the bill and Rose took it, checking it over before giving the waitress a credit card.

"Well, let's go," Mason said, getting up.

The others followed and I smiled. I had to get used to hanging around these people; after all, until my exile was over, I had no choice.

**_A/N: Okay, so this was a filler chapter and was really slow. I know I ended on somewhat of a cliffie and just to let you know, I'm not going to elaborate on it for a while. Hopefully next chapter will have more substance in it. _**

**_And about the possible new story, I'll probably put it up. Just to let you know, no, Dimitri did NOT have a kid with Tasha, and no, Rose is NOT pregnant either. _**

**_Well, until next weekend (though I might update tomorrow; no school!),_**

**_~42_**


	10. Start of a Romance

**_A/N: Okay, next update is here! Hope you all enjoy! And thanks to all the reviewers and followers as well! :)_**

**Disclaimer: I not owner Vampire Academy**

**Chapter X**

_RPOV_

We pulled back into my driveway and we got out of the car. Dimitri seemed relieved to be able to stretch again- the car was a bit too small for him. He stretched out his long limbs and turned to me.

"Thank you for inviting me tonight," he said, accent slightly heavier than usual, "I had a good time and your friends are very… spirited."

"Anytime, Comrade," I replied. I lowered my voice, making it softer and more husky, "But maybe next time it can be just you, me, and…" Dimitri's face was changing, his eyes darkening with what I believed was lust. "… and a giant plate of chili fries!" I finished. Dimitri looked like he just had a bucket of ice water dumped on his head.

"Wha- of course, Roza," he replied, his eyes going back to their usual milk chocolate brown. "You, me, and a plate of chili fries."

I was about to ask him if he wanted to go in when I heard Eddie, Mason, and Mia yell, "Bye Rose!"

"Bye guys!" I called back. "See you at St. Vlad's!"

Lissa and Christian were up against their car making out. Not exactly an image I wanted. "If you're going to continue any further, please get in your car, drive to an empty parking lot, and then proceed," I said dryly.

The two sprang apart, their lips swollen and Lissa blushing red as a tomato. "Well, bye Rose!" she said.

"See you when I come back home, Rosie-poo!" Christian yelled.

"I think you mean _if _you come back, Pyro," I smirked. "I'm pretty sure that Lissa's having her way with you tonight."

This got him blushing as well and Christian flipped me off while climbing Lissa's car to drive to her place.

When they were gone I sighed. "So, Dimitri, would you like to come inside for a while?"

"Err, sure," he replied uncertainly.

"Come on, Comrade," I said, pulling his arm. I unlocked the front door and welcomed him in. "You've already been here but still. This is my place. _Casa de Rosa._"

He smiled. "Your home is beautiful." He took off his jacket and I bit my lip. God he looked so sexy. I just wanted to jump his bones and make sweet passionate love to him all night- or we could just fuck; either one was fine, I just wanted _him_.

He wasn't as unaffected as I thought either. His eyes were darkening in lust and I lead him into the living room once again. "So, how about a movie?" I asked.

"Sure. What do you have?"

"Err, _Harry Potter_, _The Dark Knight_, _Crazy Stupid Love_, _Inception_, _The King's Speech_, _Captain America_, _The Avengers_, _The Godfather_- both of them, _Mean Girls, The Matrix, Contagion, Dune_, you choose. I have more, too."

"The only ones I have ever heard of are _Harry Potter _and _The Dark Knight_."

I raised my eyebrows at that. "You haven't heard of any of the others? Jesus, we need to catch you up."

"Which one will we watch then?" he asked.

"Eh, let's watch _The King's Speech_," I shrugged. It was the closest and I haven't watched it in a while.

"Sure. What is it about?" he asked.

"Stuff," I replied vaguely.

"Sounds interesting."

I shot a surprised look. Dimitri Belikov, who didn't even use contractions, used _sarcasm_! He met my look with a single raised eyebrow and I groaned. I still couldn't do that.

I put the movie and took a seat on the couch, about two feet away from Dimitri. We were sitting at opposite ends and I had the remote. I skipped all the ads to the main menu and pressed [play].

The movie started and I smiled. Dimitri was riveted by the plot and as the movie went on, we started moving closer together. By the time we got to my favorite scene- the one where the therapist told Bertie to swear a lot because apparently he didn't stutter when he swore, he was sitting in the middle of the couch and I was leaning on his left shoulder, his left arm wrapped around my body and his right hand on my knee.

_"Do you know the f-word?" _Lionel Logue asked in the movie.

_"Fff- fornication?" _Bertie stammered.

_"Oh, Bertie," _Logue sighed.

_"Fuck. Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, and fuck! Fuck, fuck, and bugger! Bugger, bugger, buggerty, buggerty, buggerty, fuck, fuck, arse!" _Bertie exclaimed.

_"Yes…" _Logue said.

_"Balls, balls…"_ Bertie started.

_"… you see, not a hesitation!"_ Logue continued.

_"… fuckity, shit, shit, fuck, and willy. Willy, shit and fuck and… tits!"_

**_(A/N: Dialogue in italics above is from the movie. I do not own it.)_**

I laughed and curled even more into Dimitri's side.

"What does 'willy' mean?" he asked. "And 'bugger,' and 'tits?'"

I almost groaned. "'Willy' means penis, 'bugger' means someone who does anal sex, and 'tits' are breasts."

"Interesting…" Dimitri muttered.

"'Willy' and 'bugger' aren't used very much in the US; they're more popular in the UK, but 'tits' is used a lot, especially when people are talking dirty," I added for no reason.

"Hmm…"

I looked up and saw Dimitri looking at me funny.

"What?" I asked. "Do I have something on my face? A booger in my nose?"

"No, Roza," he replied, accent heavy.

"Then what is it?" I asked, oblivious to the movie playing.

"You… you're so beautiful. So beautiful it hurts me sometimes," he said hoarsely before leaning down and covering my lips with his.

**_A/N: Short-ish chapter, but what do you think? They finally kiss! Yay! Well, the story is a little shy of a total of 14,000 words. Awesome, right? I'll hopefully update soon, I hope that everyone had a good Halloween (if they celebrate it), and for the of-age Americans, to vote wisely on Tuesday._**

**_And I'm not really sure why I picked _****The King's Speech****_. I really liked the movie and I was thinking about it today during school and I thought that it would be funny for Rose and Dimitri to watch it together. _**

**_~42_**


	11. Realizations

**_A/N: I am so so so so sorry for not updating like I promised! Gah, I'm so mad at myself!_**

**_I really don't have much to say, thank you to the current 43 reviews, 15 favorites, and 37 followers I have. :) You mean so much to me. Any chance we can get it up to 60 reviews before the next update? I read all of them and I take all the feedback to heart._**

**Disclaimer: I no own Vampire Academy. If I said that I did, Richelle Meade would sic Dimitri on me. *Gulp***

**Chapter XI**

_RPOV_

I was frozen for a second. Then my brain started working again. _Dimitri Belikov, sexiest man ever, is kissing you. Kiss him back, you idiot!_

I felt myself respond to him right afterwards, as one of his arms wrapped around me and I had one hand buried in his silky hair. My heart was pounding against my chest and I felt hot, really, really hot. He suddenly pulled away and cast his eyes downward, not meeting my gaze. "Der'mo (**_Shit_**)!" he said angrily, what I presumed to be a Russian swear.

"What's wrong?" I asked slightly breathlessly from the kiss.

"I shouldn't have done that," he said, meeting my gaze, an emotionless mask on his features.

"Why not?" I pouted slightly. The things I'd do for him. I usually never pout. "Don't you like me?"

"Shit, Roza, what kind of question is that? Of course I like you!" he said angrily. "But I am seven years older than you, I am your coach. You are a minor, I am not. We should stay friends at most, and if that is not possible, then we should assume a student/coach relationship."

My heart sank. The only thing to be heard was our heavy breathing and the movie playing in the background, unwatched and unnoticed. "I'm sorry," I said quietly.

"It's not your fault. _I _kissed _you_," Dimitri told me. He got up. "I think I should go now. I will see you at practice."

I stood up as well and followed him to the door. Once he had his coat on, I stuck out my hand. He looked at it warily. "What?" I asked. "Friends can shake hands, right?"

He smiled, making my day a whole lot better. "Yes, they can," he said, taking my small hand in his much larger one. They were both callused from years of fencing. "And friends can kiss each other on the forehead, as well," he whispered, before leaning down and brushing my forehead gently with his lips. "Goodbye, Roza," he said softly. "I'll see you at practice."

I opened the door for him and he stepped out and I watched as he got into his car and drove off away.

"Bye, Comrade," I whispered into the empty night.

_DPOV_

I could not forget the feeling of Rose's lips on mine. They were so soft, so alluring.

I pulled into Mikhail's driveway and unlocked the door. Mikhail was already asleep in our room and I didn't want to disturb him, so I took off my shoes, jacket, shirt, socks, and pants and slept on the couch, my legs dangling over the end. I used my duster as a blanket and I lay there, thinking about Roza.

God, she had a lot ahead of her. She's competed at countless international tournaments and has taken five medals away from them- one cadet bronze, one cadet silver, one cadet gold, as well as a junior bronze and a junior gold. She had the Coupe de Monde (World Cup) in less than a month as well, team and individual, and then the Grand Prix not long after that. She was only seventeen, yet she was fencing in all these high-level adult tournaments.

I don't know how long I lay there, wide awake, thinking about Rose and, I will admit, fantasizing about her. She was beautiful, powerful, strong, and I knew that without a doubt that I loved her.

**_A/N: Okay, so this was a really short chapter. Sorry. :( If I disappear from you guys I should at least post a long chapter to make up for it, right? I'm an asshole, I know. _**

**_Err, oh yeah. So the fencing World Cups are separated by event. Women's foil is typically in May. Grand Prix is another big international tournament. _**

**_~42_**


	12. New Season Part I

**_A/N: I'm sorry that the past few chapters have been so short. I'm kind of lost interest in this story at the moment. I'm sort of out of ideas for now. But anyways, I'll give you another chapter. Enjoy._**

**_Also, I was going to put this up last night, but I accidentally submitted a chapter for To Make Him Proud instead. So sorry. Thank you to RozaRocks for pointing it out._**

**Disclaimer: I don't own VA**

**Chapter XII**

_Eight months later…_

_RPOV_

I bit my lip nervously. This season's results would start to heavily count towards Olympic qualification in the summer and I was nervous as shit. The first Division I NAC was here and even though I've already gone through the entrants list, I was worried that I wouldn't do well. Well, no, I was sure that I was going to do fine, but that was what worried me the most.

Dimitri was standing behind the chair where I was sitting in, one hand resting reassuringly on my right shoulder. I was on deck for my last bout in pools, and I was pretty sure that I could make it to direct elimination. I'd won all my bouts so far, with three 5-0 bouts, a 5-3, and a 4-1. I wasn't worried about my next bout though. My next bout would be against Abby Badica. She was only a C10 and was no match compared to my A12. She was seeded 88th whereas I was first.

"Last bout. 4 and 7. Please remember to check and sign the poolsheet when you're done," the ref said. I sighed and stood up, taking off my VFA jacket and handing it to Dimitri. He nodded and walked over to the left side of the strip. I hooked up and let the referee test my foil. He nodded and then checked Badica's weapon. It passed and he gestured for us to test lamés. Both of them passed and I smiled and saluted to the ref and my opponent before settling into the en garde position.

"Be careful, Roza," I heard Dimitri murmur. "Take it easy. You got this."

I kept my eyes trained on Abby as I heard the referee.

"_En garde_."

I looked at Abby, various strategies running through my head.

"_Prêt?_"

I took a deep breath.

"_Allez!_"

Showtime.

_DPOV_

I watched Roza fence, keeping distance and being careful. She knew that if she could get out of pools undefeated, she'd have a very good chance of making it through DEs and getting in at least semi-finals.

The past year (well, almost) I'd spent coaching Rose has been good. She's been helping me with my English (Did you notice the contractions?) and I've been helping her in fencing. Alberta did a great job coaching her up until now, but I believe that I can say that I've taught her a lot in the past few months. I knew that the Badica girl was no match for Roza.

All too soon, the bout was over. Rose won 5-1 and I watched her salute and shake hands. I went to her end of the strip and helped her unhook, handing her her water bottle.

"Good job," I murmured.

"Thank you, Comrade," she replied.

Sadly, our relationship was just that of a coach and student, perhaps of two close friends. We have not furthered any romantic relations since the kiss at her home eight months ago, except for when the bottle she spun landed on me when we played Spin the Bottle at her eighteenth birthday party.

_***Flashback***_

_Rose wiped her mouth. "God, Eddie. Don't drool so much when you kiss. I don't see how anyone could stand to kiss you," she complained. _

_"Shut up, Rose, and spin the bottle," Eddie said._

_Rose rolled her eyes and spun the empty beer bottle, supplied to us by Adrian Ivashkov._

_The bottle began to slow and the whole room was watching._

_"Oh god, please don't land on me," I heard Christian pray wide-eyed. He was three people away from me. The bottle passed Christian and I heard him exhale, relieved. It also passed Mason Ashford ("Dammit!") and Mikhail ("Meh.") and we watched it slow more and more as it then went by Adrian ("Shit.")_

_It landed on me._

_The room was silent before Christian started laughing. "Seems like the Russian's going to be making out with our little Rosie!" he laughed. "You can see how girls do it in America, Belikov!"_

_I stiffened. I saw Rose shrug as she moved across the circle and face me. Her eyes (and I'm sure that mine as well) showed that she wanted to kiss me and then she leaned forwards, closing her eyes. I shut mine as well and I felt her soft lips press against mine._

_"C'mon guys, give us some tongue-action!" Eddie yelled._

_Soon enough, I felt Rose's tongue begging for entrance and I opened my mouth, our tongues battling for dominance. I could taste slightly-spiked punch and chocolate doughnuts in her mouth and it was pure bliss._

_"Alright, you can stop now!"_

_"Or you can get a room- Rose isn't jailbait anymore!" I heard Ivashkov laugh. _

_We broke apart and didn't meet each other's eyes as she went back to her place in the circle. I took the bottle and spun it. Christian._

_"Hey, looks like Belikov's getting the family set!"_

_***Flashback over***_

Rose finished checking her scores and shook the referee's hand before coming back to me. I put her jacket on over her shoulders as we made our way to the bags. She set all her stuff down- mask, extra bodycords, foils, lamé- and took off her lamé, glove, jacket, underarm protector, and breast protector, and then grabbed and extra shirt before sprinting off to change. I sat by her bag and smiled. Rose did pretty well in pools. She could've done better, but hey, everyone's got room for improvement.

She returned from the bathroom wearing a red Under Armor shirt and tossed her sweaty black one to me. I caught it and put it in the plastic bag she and Christian put her sweaty stuff in.

"Do you have any equipment you need to buy?" I asked her.

"No. I think I'm fine," she replied. "I have six working blades right now, seven working bodycords, three lamés, two masks, three mask cords, and all my basic stuff is all- wait, yeah, I need some tip-tape," she suddenly remembered.

I nodded. "Go buy some, then. I will go check on your brother and the other VFA fencers. Meet me back here after round results are posted and then we'll begin your warm-up," I instructed. She nodded eagerly and ran off.

_RPOV_

I jogged over to the table. Sure enough, on one of the end tables, there were rolls upon rolls of colorful tip-tape. I grabbed three rolls- red, black, and neon yellow. I usually differentiated my foils by tip-tape color- black with red on top were my favorite competition foils, black with yellow were my other competition foils, red with black were the same as black with red but for practice, and same with yellow with black.

I ran back to my bag and tucked the bright rolls of tape inside and sat down. I grabbed my backpack and dug around inside. Yup, a half-dozen of chocolate doughnuts. _Yum._

I'll admit, I stuffed my face with them. But hey, they're _chocolate doughnuts_- and who am I to resist the physical embodiment of heaven itself?

I ate three before putting the box away. Too many more and I'd get a stomach cramp, like I did four years ago fencing at Y14 National Qualifiers. I still qualified, but barely. Good thing I didn't eat too much and won Nationals, though. Me and my piggish ways.

**_A/N: Okay, so about tip-tape: basically, foilists need to tape the tips of their weapons because otherwise, the weapon becomes grounded and if the flat of the blade touches the opponent's lamé, the light won't go off. Also, at big tournaments (SYCs, ROCs, NACs, Nationals, JOs, etc.) there are usually vendors there who sell equipment at a discounted price. is a website that sells fencing gear and they often have vendors at NACs, Nationals, and JOs._**

**_~42_**


	13. New Season Part II

**_A/N: Again, sorry for updating so late. *Sigh* The problem is, I keep running out of ideas for this fic. I keep forgetting my original plotline, and when I remember, I either can't or forget to update._**

**_Thank you for those of you who have stood by this fic. Really, thank you._**

**_By the way, I guess you could say that there's some mature language in this. More than suggestive, but not explicit. Just as a warning._**

**Disclaimer: I do not own VA.**

**Chapter XIII**

"Excuse me!"

"Hey look, I'm not last!"

"OMIGOD HOW THE HELL DID I QUALIFY FO DEs?"

"Dammit, just got eliminated."

"Yes! I got a bye!"

"Oh fuck. I'm fencing third seed."

I made my way to the front of the posted pool results and tableau and I checked my seeding. First, as usual. I got a bye for the round of 128 and was going to either fence 65th place or 64th place. Easy. I was going to be able to sleep until the quarterfinals, where I'd most likely have to fence Evette Ozera, who was tied for seventh place. Apparently Evette was somehow really distantly related to Christian- the first time they met at a Y12 event nearly ten years ago, they decided to do some family-tree research and found out that Evette was Christian's third cousin. Apparently the Ozera family was quite large and Christian also had various aunts and uncles in Russia. Evette's sister, Lia, also fences, but she was only 35th and would probably get eliminated long before the quarterfinals.

I checked the tableau for the pod I was going to be in- apparently M. Good thing too- Christian was on L-3 for pools, and so I might be able to watch him fence after I watch the bout between 65 and 64.

I got dressed and put all of my extra equipment inside of my small weapons bag and slung it over my shoulder, walking over to the pod. I set my stuff down at a chair and threw my VFA jacket on the seat to mark it as mine, and I set my mask on the chair next to it, saving it for Dimitri.

"Fencers on pod 'M', please report to M-3 to check in with your equipment!" a referee yelled.

I unzipped my bag and took two foils, a bodycord, a mask cord, and my mask and ducked under the metal railing and walked over to M-3. I unzipped my lamé and jacket to show my underarm protector and waited for the ref to call my name.

"Hathaway-Mazur, Rosemarie!"

I raised my hand and showed the ref the inspection marks on my mask, lamé, and bodycord, and then knocked on my chest to show that I had a BP (breast protector). He checked off my name.

"Szelsky, Monica!"

I walked back to my chair and sat down and quickly texted Dimitri.

To: Comrade  
From: Rose Hathaway (Me)  
At 1:34PM 12/9/11:

hey comrade, i'm at pod m for de's. i'm seeded 1st. i have a bye, so i won't be fencing 4 a while. u don't have 2 come for at least 1/2 an hr. -rose

I sent the text and put my jacket on so that I wouldn't get cold while I was waiting. The fencers dispersed and I sat down to watch my possible opponents fence.

"On M-1, Monica Szelsky and Kristina Steele! Szelsky and Steele to M-1!" the referee called. I knew both of these fencers. Monica Szelsky was twenty-some and she was rated C11. Kristina Steele… well, I knew her. Actually, Adrian knew her first. She's from California, and Adrian and her were… fuck-buddies, I guess, for a few months I think two years ago, when he decided to study art at a college in CA. "Krissy Steele", he called her. The fact that Adrian once slept with one of my possible opponents was… unnerving. Disgusting. Terrifying. The only reason that I remember Krissy Steele was because Adrian wouldn't shut up about her "freakishly small boobs" when he came back.

_***Flashback (__**Warning: explicit. Not super-explicit, but still. You might want to skip the flashback if you are under 16. Or maybe even under 18. **__)***_

_"Hey Adrian, how was California?" I asked him. I had to pick him up at the airport and we were driving home._

_"Eh, not bad. I got a fuck-buddy to settle my urges so it wasn't unbearable," he replied. _

_"That's great, but I really don't care," I replied, grimacing at the image of Adrian having sex, but I was still pretty used to him describing his sexual encounters to me. He was quite a horny twenty year old. I'd slap him if he got to explicit, but I figured that it would be impossible to get him to shut up, and if he didn't talk to me, he'd talk to Lissa. Naïve, innocent Lissa._

_"But seriously, she was pretty awesome," he continued, ignoring me. "Krissy Steele. She said that she was also a fencer- Div I and Div II. She's a few years older than you- she's actually twenty-three. Older woman."_

_"Adrian, go tell this to your other horny college friends," I said, rolling my eyes. Of course, Adrian didn't have many friends._

_"She had the tightest pussy, which was really surprising considering that she's kind of a slut," he went on. I grimaced again. "The only thing was, she had freakishly small boobs. I mean seriously, that woman's tits are basically nonexistent. It's terrible! If her pussy wasn't so tight, I would've dumped her in a flash."_

_"You can't really dump a sex-friend, Adrian," I frowned._

_"Yes you can. You just tell them that they're really unsatisfying and that you've had better times with your hand," Adrian argued. "Or you can say that your hand's tighter than their pussy. Or-"_

_"Too graphic, Adrian. I really don't want to picture you jacking off," I shuddered._

_"Alright, Little Fencer. But still. Krissy Steele- Jesus she was good."_

_***End of flashback (__**explicit part over**__)***_

Anyways, Small-Boob Krissy was a C12, and I knew what Adrian meant about small breasts. She probably wears a men's chest protector.

I watched the two fence and was confident that I could beat them both easily. My technique and tactics were better, and so I left my place and jogged over to L-3 to check on Christian.

Just then, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I got a text from Dimitri.

To: Rose Hathaway (Me)  
From: Comrade  
At 1:37PM 12/9/11:

Okay, Roza. I'm at J-4 right now, watching Mason fence. So far he's 3 and 2. Also, Eddie's on J-1 and he's 3 and 1. Text me when you're on deck.–D. Belikov

I put my phone back into my pocket and continued jogging. I saw Christian sitting and I snuck up on him and then grabbed both of his shoulders and shook him.

"Wha- Rose, stop !" he groaned.

I stopped and smiled. "How are you doing?"

He sighed, "4 and 1. I should be 5 and 0, but I lost a really stupid bout."

"Who'd you lose to?" I asked.

"Jesse Zeklos."

My face darkened. "You lost to Zeklos? You mean Number 1 Asshole in the Universe?" I growled.

"Yeah, him. I don't know what happened! One moment I was leading 4-2, then I lost! My point control just died!" he said.

"It's fine," I replied. "Just beat the douchebag up in DEs. Anyways, how many do you have left?"

"One," he replied.

"Against who?"

"Reed Lazar."

"You can beat him. Don't worry; one loss shouldn't hinder you too much."

Christian nodded. "How'd you do?"

"I'm first right now. I'm either up against Monica Szelsky or Kristina Steele," I replied.

"Kristina Steele? You mean 'Krissy Small Boob Steele'?" he asked.

"Yup. Adrian's ex-fuck buddy," I replied.

"That should be… interesting," Christian smirked. "Have fun with that."

I punched him lightly in the arm. "Shut up."

"Next up, 1 and 2," the referee called.

Christian got up. "That's me."

"Good luck," I said, kissing him on the cheek. "Beat that kid up."

"Oh trust me, I will," he replied. "But don't watch me."

I frowned. "Why not, Pyro?"

"It stresses me out. And don't call me 'Pyro'," he added.

I sighed. "Fine."

I watched him hook up and then he saw me still watch and shooed me away. I groaned and went back to my pod. The Szelsky-Steele bout was still going, Steele was leading 12-9. They still had over a minute left. I sighed and sat down. It was going to be a long wait.

**_A/N: I'm honestly too lazy to check what I've already defined in previous chapters so please bear with me if I repeat stuff._**

**_DEs are organized into a _****tableau ****_which shows who's fencing who. You can see what one looks like if you google "Fencing direct elimination tableau." If the number of competitors doesn't fill up the tableau completely, then some fencers get _****byes****_, which are basically free passes into the next round, so you automatically move up._**

**_For Cadet, Div I, II, III, IA, and Junior NACs, only the top 80% of the fencers are promoted from pools to DEs._**

**_You tell people how you did in pools by giving them your _****record.****_ Basically, you say how many you won then how many you lost. So if you won three and lost two, you say, "_****I'm three and two.****_"_**

**_If you guys are confused about anything else, either PM me or ask me in a review._**

**_~42_**


End file.
